The old, old way which we call life. The soul
Shrank from the giant grasp of Space and Time,
Yet, for it was, her dreamy hour half yielded
To the omnipotent delusion—and looked out
On the broad glare of things, and felt itself
Dwindling before the universe: Then came unto the bard
Another spirit with another voice,
And sang:—
Said he, that all but seems?
Said he, the world is void and lonely,